Almost Home
by lucyspencer
Summary: EO, Noah, and a baby on the way (plus several assorted Stablers and one Nick Amaro). An EO spinoff of After All. *Updated with a chapter 3 as of 3/7/16*
1. Chapter 1

**READ ME:** So in my continuing mission to be as confusing as possible, I decided to take the "EO chapters" from After All and separate them out into their own fic (as I will do with the bensidy chapter(s) at some point). So if this first chapter looks familiar- it is! If you've already read it, please proceed to chapter 2 for new content. If you haven't read it, then welcome!

 _Summary:_ This takes place in a post-S16 AU where Elliot and Olivia are living together, raising Noah, and expecting a baby (aka Little Bean). If you're interested in finding out how Little Bean came into existence, then you may want to check out one of my other stories, As The Sun Does Set. If you want to read more adventures of pregnant Olivia, then I will point you in the direction of After All. And now I will stop with the self-promotion.

 _ **A/N:**_ this chapter is pretty mild save for a relatively tame sex scene. Quotes from _vindicated_ by dashboard confessional and _a sorta fairytale_ by tori amos. And yes, I've reused some of the quotes from the bensidy chapter, either as some sort of artistic device or because I'm lazy.

As always, I love feedback and I thank you for it in advance...unless you're just going to complain about a lack of brian, in which case I'll know you're bad at following directions and/or reading comprehension. Also- this chapter ends on a questionable note, but I will make everything better in the next chapter, I promise.

* * *

 _{I am selfish, I am wrong  
_ _I am right, I swear I'm right  
_ _swear I knew it all along}_

"She's here."

"Shit," you curse under your breath as Noah chooses this exact second to dump an entire bucket of blocks onto the floor. "Noah! Mommy _just_ put those away, you're not supposed to..."

"You took all his toys away, what'd you expect him to do? Sit quietly with his hands folded in his lap?" Elliot asks.

"Actually, yes. That would be perfect."

He picks Noah up so you can collect the blocks, quickly tossing most of them into the bucket and kicking the remaining few under the couch as the doorbell rings. "C'mon buddy, you wanna see who's at the door?"

The identity of your visitors isn't actually a surprise to anyone but Noah. It's Friday night, meaning Kathy is here to drop Eli off for the weekend and you've been cleaning frantically in anticipation of her arrival. Elliot thinks it's unnecessary at best and ridiculous at worst to spend hours making sure the living room is immaculate since Kathy never really lingers, just brings Eli up to the front door of your apartment and then leaves as soon as she can, but today you're hoping she'll stay a little while longer.

Elliot opens the door to his ex-wife and son both wearing the same sullen expression on their faces. He reaches out and ruffles Eli's blond curls, pretending he doesn't notice how unenthused the little boy looks. "Hey there!"

"Hey." Eli glances over at you and then Noah as if confirming that you were, unfortunately, still here before answering his dad. "Mom said you'd take me to get ice cream."

"Oh yeah? How about you and Noah and I walk down to the place on the corner before it gets dark?"

He considers this. "And _she's_ not coming?"

"No, Olivia's gonna stay here. It'll be just us guys." Elliot looks over his head toward Kathy. "Alright if I bring him home at five on Sunday?"

"Don't be late. He's got homework to finish once he gets back," she says, not bothering with pleasantries or even acknowledging you exist.

"Right." Elliot sets Noah down so you can get his jacket zipped up while he unfolds the stroller. "You ready to head out, Eli?" He glances over at you as Noah eagerly takes his seat, knowing this means he's about to go somewhere fun. "Liv?"

"Uh, right. Kathy...do you have a second? I wanted to talk to you before you leave."

Kathy looks startled, glaring at Elliot when she realizes the two of you orchestrated this 'just us guys' outing so that you could have a moment alone with her. If it's any consolation, Elliot himself doesn't even know your motive behind this conversation, but you can't exactly tell her that right now. "Oh. I...yeah, I suppose so."

"Go give your mom a hug goodbye," Elliot urges Eli. Noah watches the older boy embracing Kathy and holds his arms out, whining to be unbuckled from his seat so that he can join in on the hugging. Kathy smiles warmly and indulges him, patting his back, and you wonder if you should think it's cute that Noah's oblivious to the tensions in your fractured family or if you should worry that wanting hugs from a woman he barely knows is a sign of attachment issues.

You make a mental note to ask your therapist about it and then wave goodbye to Elliot and the boys, nervously turning your attention to Kathy. "So. Kathy. I know Elliot's told all of you about the baby."

"Oh, that he has," she says with a sardonic smile, arms crossed over her chest. "I don't know why I was surprised. Should've seen that one coming, right? Good to know my husband still hasn't figured out what a condom does."

There are two things bothering you about that statement- for one, he's no longer legally her husband. Secondly, since when did she become such an advocate of 'unnatural' birth control? (Since you started sleeping with her ex-husband, probably). But nevertheless, you hold your tongue because you know this can't be easy for her...and because you need her as an ally. "Yeah. Anyway. That wasn't actually what I wanted to talk to you about...not specifically. I've been doing some thinking about this whole first communion thing."

It had been the subject of so many discussions as of late; Eli's upcoming first communion and all the fanfare that went along with it. Beyond the actual service, there was a 'family banquet' for the whole second grade class the night before, followed by a huge bash for Eli at the Stablers' house (well, Kathy's house) the next evening. And Elliot wanted you there for _all_ of it.

Suffice it to say, this is where he and you disagreed. Your relationship with God was a complicated one, second only to your relationship with the extended Stabler clan- and the combination of the two along with dozens of judgmental near-strangers? Way too much for your already confused, overemotional pregnant self to handle. But Elliot doesn't seem to get it; the irony of taking your pregnant former mistress to church on the day of the 'feast of the immaculate conception', so you've been forced to resort to extreme tactics.

"Uh-huh. And you were thinking- what, exactly?" Kathy asks, raising an eyebrow.

"That you and I need to be on the same page as far as...look, I know this is a big deal for your family. And Elliot's adamant that I should be involved. But. Eli's been through enough, and I don't want my being there to take away from...it's his day. And it's _your_ day too, it's your son, and I know you're going to have your friends and family there. So I don't know how comfortable you are with, ah. With me being around. Especially since I can't promise this," you say, resting a hand on your small but growing baby bump, "won't be obvious by then."

"By December? Oh, it will be," she assures you, and as eagerly as you're anticipating the day that it is, you can tell she's not sharing your excitement.

"And that's what I'm saying. I don't want to be a distraction."

"How kind of you."

You resist the urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she realizes you're on her side here. "I just don't want you to have to worry about-"

"About what, introducing everyone to the woman my husband ran off with? Because I think all of them already know."

"But do they know about the baby?"

"What do you think, Olivia, that I sent out a mass email to everybody because I couldn't wait to share your good news?"

"Okay, Kathy, look." You tolerate her snide attitude towards you, for the most part, because you can't blame her. If you were in her place, you'd be bitter too. You know you deserve her venom, at least to a degree, and you know she's still reeling from the news about your baby but this is getting ridiculous. "This is me trying to help you. Now, do you want me there or not?"

Her eyes get wide and she tilts her head slightly like she never expected you would give her a choice. "Oh. Well. I..."

"It's alright," you assure her when you notice her hesitation. Even though she has no problem slinging barbs your way when it comes to your relationship with Elliot, she's fundamentally a kind, well-mannered woman and she's not going to straight out uninvite you. "I just want you to tell me what you think is best for Eli. I know I'm not always his favorite person, and-"

She sighs, reaching for your shoulder and then pulling her hand back before she can make contact. "Olivia...I hope you don't take it too personally. It's not you he's angry at, it's the situation."

 _Which you caused,_ you mentally tack on to the end of that sentence. "No...I'm pretty sure it's me. Especially now with the baby..."

"He'll adjust. He's getting along better with Noah, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he's...warming up to him. I told El they should do something fun together on Sundays after church, just him and Eli, and I think that helps."

"I didn't know that was your idea," she says. "But thank you for...I know you must not get much time to be all together as a family, so that's generous of you."

"Of course...it means a lot to both of them." Kathy has been surprisingly good about letting Elliot see Eli even more than they agreed on in the divorce settlement, but you know that not being able to see his son every day is still the hardest part of the split for him. You give Kathy a tight lipped smile, which she returns, and you can tell you're both getting uncomfortable with this sudden burst of mutual politeness. "So, ah. Back to what I was originally saying...I'm wondering if we can work together to convince El that I shouldn't be there. Maybe if we come at him from both sides..."

She laughs. "Since when do...you think my husband actually listens to anything I say?"

"Yeeah. Look, I know it's probably just a reflex, but if you could _not_ keep calling him your husband, I'd appreciate it." You don't think it's an unreasonable request but you still hesitate to ask, afraid of revealing too much of your own insecurity. Elliot did do a pretty good job of curbing the instinct to tell you that "Kathy always did such-and-such" or "Kathy and I did it this way with our kids" after you told him how much it bothered you to have to hear about the Stabler Method for every. goddamn. thing. You know he doesn't mean anything hurtful by the unsolicited advice, but sometimes you find yourself having to remind him that you're not Kathy, you're Olivia, and life with Olivia isn't going to be just like it was for him over the last thirty years.

Of course- you're not always ready and willing to change your ways either. So it's still a work in progress. But in the meanwhile, she can stop saying 'my husband'.

"Oh. I didn't realize I was- it's just that..." She pauses, shakes her head. "In any case, I don't know why you think he'd listen to me."

"Well, _I'm_ not having much luck. You know how he gets when he has his mind set on something. That's why I'm hoping that if we come at him from both sides- he has no choice but to hear us out."

A corner of her mouth turns up in silent understanding, but you can see a momentary flash of surprise on her face and you're puzzled. Surely she didn't think everything was nonstop rainbows and smiles over here? If anything, you'd be willing to bet you've had more fights with him over the years than she has. "I'll do my best."

"All I want is for you and Eli and your whole family to have a really good day. After everything that's happened in this last year...Eli deserves it."

"Aren't you suddenly so considerate."

"Kathy-"

She holds up her hand to cut you off. "I should get going if I want to make it to church on time for my class." A picture on a nearby shelf catches her eye, one of you and Elliot enjoying a summer day at the park with an infant Noah, and she brushes her fingers over the corner of the frame. "How've you been feeling?"

"Hmm?" you ask, caught off guard.

"I mean, you're what, thirteen weeks now? That first trimester was always the worst for me."

"Oh. Yeah, I'm..." You fumble for words to describe your current state without mentioning how you have the raging hormones of an average 16 year old boy. "I feel like I've been fortunate. There's bad days, but honestly I thought I'd be sicker than I am."

"I'd bet anything you're having a girl. I was miserable with my boys, not so much with my girls."

You can't help your tiny smile at hearing that. "Everyone but me thinks it's a boy."

"Nope. Not with how the weight's all gone to your face and your chest," she says matter of factly. You're a little uncomfortable with her analysis, afraid that next she'll take a guess at the color of your cervix or something (a question that you honestly don't know the answer to).

"Ah, well. I guess in a few weeks we'll find out who's right, won't we?" you stammer.

"Trust me- by now I know these things." You're relieved when she starts to make her way out the door, but then she stops again and shakes her head at another picture on your wall- a painting of a cat given to you as a housewarming gift by one Nick Amaro. "Aww, look at that. Eli's just so creative these days. I love it."

 _{I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself}_

The apartment was silent. Silent and dark, save for the light streaming from a single small lamp in the corner of the room as you sat down with your treasure. You crossed your legs in front of you, opened the container, and the first spoonful was millimeters away from your lips when-

"Is that...are you eating _frosting_ out of the can?"

 _Busted!_

You turn around to see Elliot standing behind you, snickering at your choice of bedtime snack. "Yes. Actually, I am. I've wanted it all evening and so now I'm gonna have it."

"Is that all you wanted? Chocolate frosting?" he teases, sitting down next to you and pulling you towards him until you're straddling his lap. "Cause if it is, I can go."

"No way. You're not going anywhere. I've been waiting impatiently," you say, running your index finger along his lower lip until he sucks it into his mouth, tongue licking at the little bit of chocolate smeared on the tip. When you moved into the new apartment together a couple of months ago, you and he and Kathy had a highly uncomfortable conversation in which you came to the agreement that you and Elliot would sleep in separate rooms when Eli was there. You think that the cat's really out of the bag about the nature of your relationship at this point, now that Eli knows about the baby, but he still gets excited about sleeping in the big bed with his dad and so you're not going to deprive him of that.

"Mmm, I'm sorry," he says, kissing a line underneath your jaw and down your neck. "Took Eli a while to fall asleep."

"And you're surprised? He's probably going to have nightmares after all those videos you let him watch." You were pleased when Eli and Noah found something they both enjoyed- watching baseball clips on YouTube. But then Eli took it upon himself to show Noah something that Dickie had showed _him_ ; this compilation of cars colliding and cars bursting into flames and cars overturning and rolling down cliffs and basically meeting any horrible fate a car could suffer. They weren't gory, but something about your son cheering and applauding as a truck crashed head-on into a rock wall didn't sit well with you.

Elliot, for his part, thought it was great harmless fun. "What do you think he's gonna do, go out and steal a semi so he can drive it off a bridge?" he asked, hooting loudly as a VW bug on screen did just that.

You shook your head and walked away, texting Nick to ask if he'd let his own kids watch something like that. When he immediately replied with "HELL YES- link pls?" you decided it must be a male thing and thought, not for the first time, that it might be nice to have a daughter to break up this testosterone-fest.

"He's fine. Relax," Elliot assures you again, his hands rubbing your sides underneath your t-shirt.

"That's what my frosting was for."

"Well maybe I-" He stops moving when he has one palm covering the middle of your stomach, looking curiously down at where your shirt has ridden up above his hand.

"What. What're you doing?"

"You really do have a bump now, don't you?"

"Um...I guess?"

He chuckles. "Honestly. It's bigger than it was yesterday."

"How do you know that? You can't tell how much it's grown in a day."

"I can. I promise," and you roll your eyes but he's still got you looking downward, trying to see if you could notice any change from the last time you'd studied your profile in the mirror that morning. You know it's silly and Elliot's quick to give you a hard time if he catches you, but it's still part of your daily routine. It makes you smile every time, no matter how sleepy and nauseous you might otherwise feel, because for the first time in years you can look at yourself and see something other than your scars. You see proof that it's real, this healthy little person thriving and growing inside of you, and as much as he teases you about it, you can tell just from the look on his face that Elliot's as excited as you are.

And now when you lie down on the couch cushions and he's hovering over you, kissing your stomach reverently, it's hard to believe that you ever doubted how much he wanted this. You were skeptical even when he was the first one to bring up the idea of another baby, unsure what his motivations for wanting a seventh(!) child really were. Your fear was that he was only doing this for you, to give you the family you always wished for, and not because he had any particular desire to be a father again. After all, he already had one late in life baby *and* he had suddenly become the parent of a toddler all over again. But then you think about how over the moon he is every time Noah reaches a new milestone, like he's never seen a kid accomplish such feats before, and you think about how he kissed you when you told him the news and how he falls asleep every night with his hand on your belly, and suddenly you don't have a doubt in your mind.

"You're sure Eli's asleep?" you ask as he pushes your shirt higher until it's bunched up to your underarms.

"Promise."

It's an unsung benefit of police training, the ability to stay unconsciously attuned to even the smallest of sounds while you're otherwise occupied- so you're trusting that your instincts will kick in if either of the kids start stirring. And they better not fail you, because you're sure as fuck not paying attention to anything else when he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, lapping at it with the very tip of his tongue.

"Mother _fucker,"_ you groan as he repeats the motion on the other side, suckling with an added intensity. They're still sore as hell, like you've just spent all day wearing a bulletproof vest (and those things were not designed for even the most flat chested of women), but he knows by now how to tell when it's too much and more importantly, he knows you like the pain, like right now when he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger to get your attention as he makes a shushing noise.

It's a little bit of a thrill sneaking around like this, if you don't consider how mortifying it'd be to get caught. There was a time when you wondered if a big part of the attraction between the two of you was the illicit nature of the whole thing, the allure of doing something forbidden, and if there would be any sort of spark left once the secrecy was gone.

As it turns out, you were wrong. You can't believe how wrong you were and, as he slides one hand down inside your underwear and starts to slowly circle your clit with one finger, you don't even remember why you started thinking like that in the first place other than that you're-

"So fucking perfect," he says in a low rumble, and you can feel the vibration of his words against your skin when he finally touches you-

"Right there, oh god fuckfuckfuck..."

He swallows the rest of your words with a kiss to keep you quiet, and it seems like hours pass by before you finally break away for air. "You good?" he asks, kissing your forehead despite the beads of sweat forming at your hairline.

"Uhh-huh," you hum emphatically, like he doesn't already know that he just made you come three times in a row without even hardly trying. Pregnancy has made you an incredibly cheap date.

You shift around to take some of the pressure off of your back and he shakes his head when he sees the pillow you've been lying on top of. "I wish you'd get rid of that thing."

"You'd change your mind when I'd be up all night bitching." His reason for despising it, of course, is that it was a present from a certain ex-boyfriend who shall not be named. The relationship might've been irreparably broken but you had hung onto that pillow, for practical reasons more than sentimental ones. You still occasionally reached for it when you went through phases where your nightmares came back in force, but in the last couple of months it'd become a lifesaver when you used it to relieve the lower back pain that kept you up at night. "For something the size of a peapod, your baby does a hell of a job pressing right up against my spine."

" _Our_ baby."

"Nope. It's yours when it keeps me awake."

"That your way of saying I should just go ahead and plan on being the one who gets up for all the night feedings?"

"Well, since you offered..." You lie back down and reach for the back of his neck to pull him down with you, feet planted firmly on the cushions and legs spread out on either side of his so you can feel his erection nudging insistently at the inside of your thigh. "Something you need?"

"Shit, that's...but you don't have to, honest, I know you're tired. Just wanted to make you feel good," he says, kissing behind your ear.

"And you did, but I'm not _that_ tired. So I can either sit here and eat my frosting while you go back to bed, or..." You wiggle out from underneath him, heading toward the guest bathroom just off the living room, and you laugh when you see his slightly puzzled look. "Trust me, what I wanna do to you...I'm going to need a little more privacy than this."

 _{in too deep now to ever swim against the current}_

Sometimes you start to seriously wonder what the hell you're going to do when you have two kids.

Today was one of those days.

It started with you waking up to both a tremendous headache and a severe bout of nausea, the likes of which you hadn't experienced since you stopped binge drinking. It was so bad, in fact, that you wondered why you even still had a headache when you were pretty sure you had literally puked your brains out. How delightful.

Despite this minor annoyance, you really did feel a bit better by the time you finished throwing up. But by then the boys were awake- and things started going downhill again.

Your original plans for the day involved a trip to the zoo, because it was something both kids would enjoy and you'd found that Eli was more pleasant if he wasn't cooped up inside all day. But the weather outside was just this side of Hurricane Sandy-esque...time for a new plan. One that involved an almost-two year old and an almost-eight year old entertaining themselves safely and sanely within the walls of your 900 square foot apartment.

This was not a good plan.

"I miss Dory," Eli complains, throwing himself backwards onto the couch and sulking. Dory was the cat Elliot had bought for Eli when he moved out- with the strict instructions that she was to remain only at the house in Queens. "Why can't she ever come here with me?"

"You know the rules. Noah can't have pets in the house with his asthma," Elliot reminded him. It was partially true, and it made for a good excuse, but you secretly suspected Elliot was actually a little afraid of cats and didn't want one wandering around the place.

"This SUCKS. I'm bored."

"Go read your library book. Your mom said you have to finish it while you're here so you can write your book report when you get home."

"HE doesn't have to," Eli says, glaring at Noah.

"But he has to take a nap in a half hour," you point out. Elliot tells Eli that he can have a reprieve from reading if he plays with Noah until naptime, to which Eli sighs loudly and stomps off toward Noah's room.

"Don't look at me like that," Elliot says to you. "I wasn't the one who shut down the party when everyone was getting along. Twice."

"They had enough screentime for one day; they already spent hours on the iPad last night. And did _you_ really want them doing gymnastics in the living room? I've already been to the ER enough this year and-"

"Welcome to having sons." Elliot chuckles and you glare at him like Eli had just been doing. You don't think you're some rigid, overly strict mother, but Elliot has a way of making you feel like you are. Is it honestly so out of line to think that the kids didn't need to be jumping and doing somersaults on a mattress pad they dragged out of Noah's room? Apparently it is, according to Elliot, who only put a stop to it when Noah wanted to try jumping off the back of the couch.

"Fine, I'm going downstairs to get the mail. Please make sure no one needs stitches before I get back..."

As you slip your shoes on, you see Noah running down the hall with his baby doll in hand. Eli is unimpressed. "That's such a gay toy, Noah."

"Eli!" Elliot barks.

"What? It is!"

"You don't use that kind of language, understand? He can play with whatever he wants."

You close the door behind you before you can hear his reply, hoping against hope that you'll return a few minutes later to two little boys getting along happily, playing a game that's safe (and quiet).

No such luck. As soon as you step inside you're greeted by the sound of Noah letting out a shriek, followed by a long wail.

You go running into Noah's room to find him crying and holding a scratched up knee while Eli shouts "He started it!"

"Eli, _what_ did you do?" you ask, picking Noah up to comfort him.

Eli ignores you and turns toward Elliot, who's standing in the doorway. "I didn't do it! He was throwing kleenex around so I tried to take the box away and he _bit_ me!"

"So you pushed him down?" You now notice the dozens of tissues scattered around the floor, along with a pretty good-sized teeth mark on Eli's hand.

"I didn't mean to! He was biting me and I was trying to get away and he fell!"

Noah obviously can't plead his side of the case, but you know he's bitten kids at daycare before and so you're inclined to believe Eli's telling the truth. "But still, if you knew he was doing something he wasn't supposed to, why didn't you go get your dad instead?"

"Go wait in my room, Eli, and I'll be in to help you get that bandaged up in a second," Elliot says.

"Why'm _I_ the one in trouble?"

"Don't worry, Noah's in trouble too," you promise him. "He knows he's not supposed to be biting. But you're older, so you should know better than to start fights."

"She's right, Eli. Now go."

Eli does as his dad says, but not before turning around and announcing that "I liked it better before my dad moved in here with YOU."

"Eli-" Elliot starts to say, but you cut him off.

"Just don't, El, I get it." Eli had only come to stay with you in the new place half a dozen times or so, and you knew he was still adjusting. You and Noah had spent time with them during Elliot's weekends before that, of course, but you always had your own apartment to go back to so Eli didn't have to 'share' his dad so much. "Help me get Noah ready for his nap?"

You get him changed, decide that his knee doesn't need a bandaid- although he'll have a nice bruise forming soon- and get him into his crib while sternly reminding him that biting is bad. "He's not gonna remember what he did, Liv."

"Oh, he does. He knows it's wrong. Even if he doesn't- what am I supposed to do, just let him get away with it? And why weren't you watching them?"

"I was right there in the kitchen. I could hear them just fine."

"Oh? So you must have heard them fighting, right? Why didn't you go stop them?"

"I did when I heard Noah start to cry," he argues. "I'm not gonna break up every little argument or else they'll never learn to solve anything themselves."

"So you'll just let them start wailing on each other. That'll teach them."

"Liv, for God's sake, you know I wouldn't. It escalated before I could stop them- but they'll live. They're brothers, they'll do a lot worse to each other over the years. You can't watch 'em every second."

You know he's probably right, and you know he'd never purposely sit back and let World War III break out, but you're also fucking tired of his 'I'm so laid back because I know so much about parenting' shtick. "Fine, whatever. Just go talk to Eli."

You close the door to Noah's room and start peeling off your sweatshirt because you're suddenly feeling sweat dripping down the back of your neck- pregnancy has a way of messing with your inner thermostat. You're not even really thinking about what you're doing or who might be watching until you hear Eli's startled voice.

"What the hell happened to your arms?"

"Language!" you and Elliot both remind him in unison before either of you realize what he actually said. You look over at Eli, whose expression is visibly concerned, and then back down at your arms. Oh. _Oh._

"I'm okay, Eli, I just-" You glance at Elliot, momentarily flustered. It honestly hadn't occurred to you that Eli had never seen you in a sleeveless shirt before and you didn't want to scare him. "I mean-"

"That's none of your business! Who told you that you could ask questions like that?"

You see Eli's face sink even more when his dad admonishes him, and you reach for Elliot's elbow to tell him it's okay, that you can tell the little boy really is worried and not just being a brat. But the entire day is hitting you at once, you're in pain and frustrated and overwhelmed and sleep deprived and you just can't find the words. "I...I'm sorry, Eli, I've gotta..."

"Now see what you did?" you hear Elliot ask as you hurry toward the bathroom, intermixed with Eli's little voice pleading 'I didn't mean to, Daddy, really...it's not my fault!'

 _{I knew then it would be a lifelong thing  
_ _but I didn't know that we could break a silver lining}_

* * *

TBC- happy ending to come, I promise :)


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! You have arrived at the "new" stuff (as of 2/29/16). And in fact, the only reason you're getting this update right now is because I have this strange compulsion to post something on this leap day. There is a final scene to this story in which everything will be resolved, and it will be coming in a couple of days. But for now, you get this. Whether that's a good thing or not is up for you to decide. :P

 **A/N:** Pretty mild. Only warnings are for some bad language and a heart to heart between Olivia and Eli. Quotes from _a sorta fairytale_ by tori amos and _vindicated_ by dashboard confessional.

As always, I'd love to hear what you think! Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or comment, and I'll 'see' you again soon with the conclusion.

* * *

 _{and I'm so sad  
_ _like a good book I can't put this day back}_

"Hey."

You sigh before you can catch yourself and hope he doesn't hear you. The kids were finally in bed after a long day of sulking, and you yourself were just about to turn off the lamp and close your eyes when you heard Elliot's voice. "What is it?"

"Hello to you too," he says, sitting down at the opposite end of the couch from where you are.

"El, I'm tired. And I told you- what Eli asked, I don't wanna talk about it. He didn't know; it's not his fault."

"And I still think he should've apologized, but that's not what..."

"What you've been sulking about all evening?" He opens his mouth and you nod before he can say anything. "Yes, you have. Now I know where the boys picked it up from."

"I didn't want to get in an argument with you in front of them."

"Why do we have to get into an argument at all?" you ask, although you realize that at this point it's already too late to stop it.

"Why did I get a text from Kathy telling me that the two of you 'decided' you're not going to Eli's communion? Where was I when all this decision making was going on?"

"You took Eli and Noah out so I could talk to her, remember?"

"But I didn't know that's what you wanted to- I thought it was about the baby."

"Well, it kinda is." You rub the bridge of your nose, trying not to think about how nice it would be to have a glass of wine or a cup of coffee or even a goddamn Tylenol right now. Anything to soothe this headache. "Whether you want to admit it or not, having me show up there obviously pregnant might cause a bit of a...distraction."

"Because you'll be the first unmarried pregnant woman to step foot in church? I hate to break it to you, but-"

"Elliot, that's not even what I'm saying. The people there _know_ you, they know why you got divorced- not to mention Kathy's whole extended family, who were already giving me the evil eye back at Eli's baptism when all we did is work together- look. This is supposed to be a day for your family to celebrate-"

"Is that what Kathy said to you?"

You would roll your eyes if it wasn't excruciatingly painful. "No. That's what _I_ said to Kathy. I mean, your divorce hasn't even been official for a year. Eli's still adjusting, especially now with the baby-"

"So at what point are you going to be joining 'my family'? By the time Eli graduates high school? By the time he gets married?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"No, I don't. When we were partners, you were always there when the kids had some big milestone. So why does that change now?"

"A lot of things have changed since then," you point out. "This is for Eli's sake, okay? I'm already not his favorite person, and I don't want to ruin his big day by starting drama just by being there."

"You think I'd let that happen? Because if anyone says a word to you, swear to God I'll-"

"This is what I mean by starting drama, El. I want you to enjoy the time with your family and _not_ have to worry about defending me."

"There you go with this 'your family' shit again. Who exactly is included in my family? If you're not...then Noah's not? What about when this one's born?" he asks, gesturing to your stomach. "Who's he belong to?"

"Elliot. Stop."

"I don't want to play this yours and mine and ours game, Olivia. So when you're ready to commit to this, to us being a family, why don't you just let me know."

"You're seriously going to question whether or not I'm committed while I'm pregnant with your child?" you ask, and for the first time since you moved in together, you're cursing not being able to throw him out at will. "When I've already asked you to adopt Noah? Think about what you're saying here."

He ignores you, standing up and shaking his head as he looks down at the floor. "You couldn't just talk to me about all this, huh? So instead you go behind my back and start conspiring with my ex-wife?"

"There's no conspiracy here! It affects her too, you know, and I have every right to...I don't need your permission to have a conversation with her. Especially when it's about something I've _tried_ to bring up with you several times and every time you brush me off." It's true, mostly. You _have_ tried, and he _has_ brushed you off. But when he has, you've just let it go, whereas normally you wouldn't let him get away with that. And you tell yourself that you shouldn't have to, that he's the one in the wrong and he should be more willing to listen, and you try not to think about all the reasons why you're scared of him trying to dig deeper to get at the root of this.

"What is it about this that bothers you so much?" he asks, but it's less _I want to understand_ and more _whatever it is, you're being unreasonable_ , and he's sure as hell not going to get anything out of you that way. "It doesn't make sense. You never had a problem showing up when the kids had something going on before."

"Yeah, you already said that. And I told you...back then, I was just your partner. That's completely different than being in a room full of people who probably think that I was some unstable pity fuck who went and wrecked your family."

"Liv, for one thing, that's- since when do you care what total strangers think?"

"It's not just strangers. I...maybe your mom will come. It'd be good for you guys, good for Eli to see his grandma. And she sure as hell won't show up if I'm there." You hadn't expected Bernie to react so negatively, first to the news of Elliot's divorce and then to his announcement that she was about to become a grandmother again. Her relationship with her son had improved slightly over the last half-dozen years or so, but they still mostly stayed out of each other's lives, hence your surprise at her strong disapproval.

"You know you can't plan around what she may or may not do. It's always a crapshoot at best, whether or not she'll actually make it to anything."

"What about your kids?" you ask. "I haven't seen any of them but Eli since they found out about the baby and- I don't want things to get awkward, I know they're probably still not thrilled."

"They're not...they were _surprised_ , that's all, but I guess you wouldn't know because you weren't there."

"Oh no. That was a decision we both made, so don't act like it's my fault." Not knowing how Elliot's older children would respond when they found out about their new sibling, the two of you decided it would be best if he talked to them on his own, in hopes that they would be honest with him if they didn't have to worry about sparing your feelings. "I don't understand why you're making such a huge deal out of this, Elliot, it's-"

"Because this isn't how families work! You don't just-"

"Thank you," you say in a louder voice than you intended, standing up abruptly and trying to hide how you're thrown slightly off balance, "for reminding me that no, I don't know how families work. Just like I don't know how to deal with brothers who're fighting or clean up after a toddler or do any of a thousand other things that you've told me I'm doing wrong. I'm not this perfect-"

"Maaaaaa!" You hear a wail coming from the nursery- Noah must've been woken up by the sound of your fighting, and he's obviously quite unhappy about it. Great.

"I'll go get him," Elliot decides. "You're tired, and-"

"I'm fine, and I can take care of my son just fine," you tell him, purposely emphasizing the 'my son' as you storm off, wondering how you'll be able to get your point across in a few months when you'll be doing less storming and more waddling.

Noah is waiting for you when you open the door to his room, standing up with his arms folded on the top of the crib railing and whimpering to himself. At almost two years of age, he usually sleeps through the night without complaint, but the one thing that's sure to rouse him is any sign of distress from you. Maybe it's a holdover from the early days where the two of you seemed to take turns waking each other up in hysterics. Whatever it is, he's snoozed through Eli bouncing a basketball on the other side of the wall without even blinking an eye, but you swear you've heard him start to fuss when you were crying silently at the opposite end of the apartment.

"It's okay, Momma's okay," you promise him, groaning under your breath as you reach over to pick him up. He's not convinced; still sniffling into your shirt until you sit down on the daybed next to his crib and cuddle him on your lap. "We're okay, you and me. Right?"

"Riii," he answers, yawning and rubbing at his eyes before clutching your sleeve in his tiny fist.

Once again, you ignore your better judgment and decide he can stay snuggled up to you until he falls back asleep. You know that consistency is important, especially now that he's old enough to understand your established routine, but just for tonight it won't hurt for him to be out of the crib. (AKA, you need it more than he does).

What you told Elliot is true. You don't know how families work. And maybe that's what created such a strong bond between you and Noah in the first place, even before he was 'yours'- that both of you were misfits out on your own in the world. For the first 32 years of your life, your definition of family didn't extend much further than yourself and your mother. Mom was already the less favored daughter seemingly from birth, and an out of wedlock pregnancy only enlarged the wedge between her and your grandparents, a divide which then spilled over into your relationship with them even when you were too young to understand why. You looked different from the rest of them with their fair skin and dark blonde hair, but it didn't take you long to figure out that it ran deeper than looks. _They hate me_ , your mother had told you when you couldn't have been more than seven, adding some offhand platitude about how they still loved you before launching back into a spiel about how Grandma and Grandpa were terrible people and how lucky you were to have a parent like her. _You and me, we're all each other has_ , she said. _Can't trust anybody else._

But now, at the age of 47, you've somehow found yourself surrounded by people you _have_ come to trust. You've got a son who's officially yours after 12 months of uncertainty and a little bean on the way, a near-miracle who's healthy and growing despite all odds. You finally have- dare you even say it- a family. And not just any family. You go to sleep every night next to the person you've loved for a third of your life but never thought you would actually be with, and now all of a sudden you're a part of the family you spent so many years watching through the metaphorical window, wishing you belonged there.

But are you really a part of it? Or will you always be sort of an also-ran, you and 'your' kids who are destined to never quite fit in by virtue of their birth? The baby will have a slight advantage, being Elliot's biological child, but he or she will still have you as a mother. As will Noah, who eventually will have to learn the unfortunate truth about his birth parents that everyone else knows. Your heart already aches for him when you think about the day he realizes that he's different than his step-siblings and his younger half-brother or sister, when he's old enough to grasp what being 'dotted', as he calls it, actually means.

And of course, that's not even considering how someday he and Little Bean will learn to use the almighty Google, and when they type in your name (as they inevitably will), they'll find pages and pages of results with a video clip of you confessing to attempted murder displayed right at the top of page one.

It's pretty damning...but not when you consider that the worst things about you aren't even posted online. And yet, they'll still find out. Secrets never stay that way for very long.

Noah's deep, steady breathing signals to you that he's fast asleep, so you decide it's time to carry him over to the crib and get him tucked in before he can wake up again. You lie back down on the daybed and close your eyes, listening to the sound of his soft snoring until it's interrupted by the click of the doorknob.

You quickly turn over onto your side and face the wall. "Liv?"

Ignoring Elliot as he whispers your name in the dark, you keep your eyes squeezed shut and hold perfectly still, hoping that he'll think you're sleeping and leave you alone.

"Liv, c'mon. I know you're awake." You can hear him sit down on the floor next to you and feel his hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades. "We don't have to talk. But will you just listen to me?"

You want to say no, give him the excuse that he'll wake Noah, but in the end you don't have the energy to do anything except nod.

"I just want you to know that I love you," he says. "That _you_ are the one I chose, not Kathy, and nothing's gonna make me change my mind about that. Nothing. I made the right choice, cause I'm sure this is where I'm supposed to be- this is _always_ where I was supposed to be. There's no getting rid of me now." You can feel the warm puffs of air tickling the nape of your neck as he laughs, then presses his lips against your hair. "Love you."

He pauses, and you know he's probably not expecting you to say anything, but he's giving you the chance anyway. You want to reach behind you, to search out his hand and hold it in your own as a silent promise. But when you try to move, your muscles disobey you, and you're left biting down on your lip to silence your tears as he walks away.

 _{I am flawed but I am cleaning up so well}_

"Livia?"

You look up from the kitchen table that you're scouring for the third time today (how did you not notice all these watermarks before now?) to find Eli watching you. "Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you?"

"Of course, what's up?" He and Elliot had only been home from church for about 20 minutes, so your first instinct was to wonder what you've done wrong by him in that short amount of time, but he doesn't seem to be as sullen as he was yesterday. Serious, but not sullen.

"Not in here," he says. "It's confidential."

You make a silent 'oh' with your mouth, looking over at Elliot. "Should we get your dad?"

"I _said_ , confidential."

"Right, got it. Hey El- can you keep an eye on Noah for a minute?"

He gives you a frown as if to ask what's going on, but you just shrug and he nods. "Sure thing."

"So what did you want to talk about?" You close the door to your bedroom and sit down on the bed next to Eli, who still has the same serious expression on his face.

"I wanted to say sorry about yesterday. For asking about your arms."

That was certainly not what you were expecting. "Ohh...did your dad tell you that you needed to apologize?"

"No," Eli snorts, as if it's ludicrous to think he would take orders from Elliot. "Father Tony said I should at Confession."

"That's very sweet of you, and I accept your apology, but I know you weren't meaning to be rude. You were just worried, yeah?"

"Yeah. But I made you cry."

"It's okay, honey, it's not your fault. Pregnant ladies cry all the time." When he looks skeptical, you try a new tactic. "I got those scars a long time ago from...an accident at work."

His eyes widen with interest. "Were you chasing a bad guy? Did you get him?"

"I did," you say, grateful that he's come up with his own explanation. "And he's dead now, so he can't hurt anybody else. But sometimes it still makes me sad to think about."

He lifts up his chin, pointing to a little scar underneath it. "I have a scar too! I fell down the stairs and I had to go to the hospital and get stitches and I was scared and it was bleeding a lot. But it doesn't make me sad, cause I remember that everyone said how brave I was and the nurse brought me strawberry frozen yogurt because I didn't cry when I got a shot. So I don't think you should be sad either, since you were really brave and caught a bad guy."

"You know what? I think you're right," you agree- because in a way, he has a point- and you blink hard a few times because the last thing you need right now is to freak the little boy out by crying again.

"Yeah, I am...but I should try to be nicer to you. Father Tony said that too."

"This has been really hard for you, huh? Your mom and dad splitting up, and your dad moving here with me, and now with the baby...that's a lot of changes."

"Well. It's okay that Mom and Daddy got divorced. Because I think they like each other more when they don't talk a lot," and that's probably an accurate assessment, "but I wish Dad didn't get a different family." He instantly looks chastened before you can even reply. "Sorry."

"Oh honey...your dad didn't get a different family." Once again, he's not buying what you're selling. "But I know how it feels when things change. You know my friend Nick?"

"Yeah! He likes painting like I do!"

"He does! And I love him very much- but when I first met him, I was kinda mean. I was really sad that I wasn't working with your dad anymore, and I didn't want to work with a new person, even though it wasn't Nick's fault that your dad was gone."

"That *is* mean."

"It was. But eventually...I realized Nick wasn't gonna replace your dad. Both of them are special to me for different reasons, and now both of them are part of my family. Even Nick, even though I miss him now that he's so far away...my family's just getting bigger and more spread out. Kinda like yours is. You're still part of your dad's family even though he lives here now, I promise."

Eli's brows are furrowed in thought as he considers this. "So are we family?"

"I hope so. I want us to be."

"Are you and Mom family?"

"Uh...I guess we are, in a way. You, and your dad, and your brothers and sisters are all important to both of us."

He nods. "I think Mom's jealous that Dad lives here with you."

"Well, I guess...it's not always easy when a family grows. Even though it makes me happy, it's hard for me sometimes too. When I was a kid, it was just me and my mom, so I'm not used to having a family this big. I don't always know what to do."

"You can ask me," he offers. "I know lots about it."

"Y'know, I might have to take you up on that. Because I really want us all to be happy here, and I want you to feel like this is your family too, even if you don't always live with us."

"Mom told me maybe I can come stay here for a whole month next summer."

"Would you like that?"

"Yeah!" He pauses. "Can I bring Dory?"

" _That_ is something you're going to have to talk to your dad about. But I know the three of us would really like having you here too. And I'll be busy with the baby, so I bet you and your dad will have lots of time to go out and do things together."

"With Noah?"

"I guess that depends on what you're doing...but Noah would be awfully excited to come with you guys. He thinks it's pretty cool to hang around with a big kid like you."

"Are you going to come to my first communion?" he asks suddenly.

"Oh. Well. Am I invited?"

"Maybe."

"Just maybe?"

He nods. "If you don't bring Noah. He won't be reverent and the rest of us can't think about God then."

"Got it," you say, chuckling a little in surprise- both at his explanation and his readiness to have you there. "I was going to have Lucy watch him anyway, he's a little too young for church."

"Are you and Dad going to get married?"

"Wow, uh...do you think we should?"

He gives you a disappointed look, like this should be obvious. "If you get married, everyone gives you presents. At Maureen's wedding, she got a ton of stuff!"

"That _is_ a pretty good reason- but I don't think we're going to get married just yet. Right now we've got lots to do to get ready for the baby."

"Oh yeah. The baby."

"What do you think about having a new brother or sister?" He shrugs apathetically and you decide to approach this from another angle. "You know, I'm kinda worried about Noah. Do you think he'll be jealous when there's a little one around here?"

"Probably."

"Yeah? What do you think I should do about that?"

"Hmm...you should buy him presents. And spend lots of time with him, and tell him not to worry cause pretty soon everyone gets tired of the baby. They do!" he insists when he sees you trying to hide a smile. "When Benjamin was born, at first everyone wanted to see him all the time but then they realized all babies do is cry and poop, so then they weren't as excited anymore and everything kinda went back to normal."

"I think that's very good advice. I'm glad Noah will have you around to teach him all about being a big brother, because I don't want him to get upset thinking that we won't love him as much once he has a new sibling."

"That's dumb," he scoffs, "cause everyone can love lots of people. But I think that, after this, you probably shouldn't have any more babies."

"No? How come?"

"You and Dad are kinda old. You're like...40 or somethin'. And you don't have room in your apartment for another kid."

"You're right about that. Hopefully by next summer, we'll move to a bigger place," you say. You've already started looking at real estate listings to get an idea of what's out there- you'd love to find something big enough for all three kids to have their own bedrooms. In order for that to happen, though, you'll most likely need to win the lottery. The odds are slim, but stranger things have definitely happened in your life... "So Eli- do you think we're okay now, you and me?"

"Yeah, we're good." And you're not going to fool yourself into thinking that you've reached some sitcom-style resolution where you hug and the studio audience goes 'Aww' because everyone has learned a valuable life lesson and you'll never have to revisit this issue again, but it feels like progress. Like you've come to an understanding, at least for today.

"That makes me really happy to hear. You've always been special to me, know that? Ever since the day you were born."

"Livia, don't get all mushy like my mom," he pleads. "I'm gonna go now, I told Noah I'd play cars with him after church."

"That's a nice thing for to you do, hon. Go on, I'm sure he's waiting."

Eli gets up and then stops before he can open the door, hand on the knob. "Oh, Livia? If you come to church with us, will you wear something gay?"

"Will I- what?"

"You know, a skirt or dress or something like my mom always wears to church. I only ever see you wear pants."

"Eli...what do you think gay means?" you ask, remembering the day before when he had scolded Noah for playing with a 'gay' doll.

He gives you the look of a seven year old who can't believe how taxing it is to interact with adults. "It's like, girly stuff. Things girls like."

"Mmm. Not quite. But that's something for you to talk to your mom or dad about," you add quickly. "In the meanwhile, just promise me you won't use that word?"

He nods before dashing off. "Kay. Hey Dad? Dad!"

 _{all in all was a pretty nice day}_


	3. Chapter 3

Hello! As promised, I'm back with the conclusion to this little fic. There might be another chapter or two in the future, but for now this is it (although I'll be continuing with After All before long). Hope you enjoy and thank you in advance to everyone who reads. :D

 **A/N:** warning for sexual content (and maybe a few spoilers for chapters of TG that I haven't written yet, if you read closely). Quotes once again from _vindicated_ by dashboard confessional and _almost home_ by mary chapin carpenter.

 **Note:** I've got a 'deleted scene' from this chapter, a short bit with olivia, kathy, and noah that I liked but didn't really fit anywhere. I've never done this before, but if you're interested in reading it, leave a comment here and I'll send it to you. If you don't want to/don't have a login, let me know where I can hit you up on twitter :)

* * *

 _{I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself}_

"So on a scale of one to ten, how ridiculous was I being? Honestly."

You can feel Elliot's chest rumbling against your back as he chuckles. "I'm not answering that question."

"Oh, come on," you say, splashing him a little, but he just wraps his arm around your waist a bit tighter from where he's sitting behind you in the bathtub.

"Like I told you. You're pregnant, so I'm giving you a pass. Enjoy it while it lasts."

"You told me that, yeah, but I don't think you expected me to break down sobbing when you did." Earlier in the day, when Kathy had already come for Eli and Noah was still taking his afternoon nap, you had summoned up the courage to approach Elliot and apologize for what had happened the night before.

 _"I'm sorry, you know. For the things I said and- you tried to talk to me, you knew somehow what I was thinking but I just...shut you out. Again."_

 _He had nodded, reaching out for your hand. "You don't have to...you were listening. That was all I wanted. You needed time to sort through everything in your head, I get it."_

 _"Yeah. But I..."_

 _"But nothing," he said, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile as he tries to pull you down on his lap. "We *do* need to talk. But trust me, I'd rather deal with a silent pregnant woman than an angry one. Know that for sure." He was attempting to set you at ease with a joke, unaware that he was on the verge of disaster when you didn't reply. "I'm giving you an out here, Liv, you'd better get as much mileage out of it as you can while it lasts- Liv?"_

 _There's jokes that fall flat, and then there are the ones that send the audience into a hysterical mess of sobs. You'd chalked some of your strange moods up to hormones before, sure, but this was something altogether different. You didn't *want* to be bawling and you were fully aware that you were overreacting to- what? Something you couldn't even articulate. All you knew is that you felt completely stupid and hopeless and like you needed to crawl under the bed and hide there for at least the next six months._

 _To Elliot's credit, he didn't make a run for the front door or even threaten to if you didn't shut the fuck up right fucking now (that's what *you* were telling yourself). He started to say something as you stood up, wriggling out of his grasp when he tried to touch your arm, but you cut him off with a sharp "NO" and that was enough to get him to back off._

 _"It's not fair!" you blurted out when you finally had a modicum of control over your voice, using Eli's favorite phrase because- well, because it *wasn't*. And because you felt about as helpless as a seven year old right then. "Why are you the expert on *everything*? You even know more about being pregnant than I do and I'm fucking SICK of it!"_

"It's okay. At least we can joke about it now...right?" he adds, because one can never be too sure around you these days.

"I can. Not you." He quickly agrees and the sound of your laughter echoes against the bathroom tiles. "That was a joke...or you know what? Maybe no more jokes, from either of us. At least until Little Bean is here."

"You think you're overemotional now? Wait until then! Kathy cried for hours on the day we brought Kathleen home because I got the wrong kind of diapers at the store. She was convinced it was some sort of bad omen and I'd cursed Katie for life...but. I mean. You could be different, I'm not saying that-"

"Elliot. Stop. Are you really that afraid of me?"

"Afraid? Of you?" He pauses. "Since the day we met."

"Will you...I'm trying to be serious here."

"Who said I was kidding?" You tilt your head back to frown at him and he relents. "All I meant is- this isn't a competition between you and Kathy. I don't expect you to be just like her. I don't even _want_ that. Besides, if it was a competition...I'll let you in on a secret. You already won."

"Mmm, and I got a pretty good prize," you agree, letting your neck rest in the crook of his shoulder. You have to admit there _were_ perks to being with someone who had so much experience in this department, like when you had gotten yourself under control enough to try apologizing again- this time for your apology turned meltdown- but before you could say anything he just hugged you and promised that the two of you were alright, that you would talk about it after dinner (which he made).

"Some of this is all new to me too, y'know. The only things I know about stepfamilies come from watching the Brady Bunch as a kid. Made it look so easy."

"That was my favorite show growing up...I used to wish my mom would meet someone with a ton of kids and we'd be this big happy family like that." Of course, for that to happen, your mother would've had to find a potential spouse in the first place. It would've been difficult considering that she rarely dated- and although you didn't realize it until much later, virtually all of her male 'friends' were already married to someone else.

You can hear and feel him let out a long exhale. "Listen, I was outta line for what I said last night, that you don't know how families work..."

"It's true, though."

"But I'm tellin' you, I'm not this expert. You know my...I pretty much had to figure it all out for myself as an adult."

"And you did. You've got four grown up kids who all turned out amazing, and I'm sure Eli will be the same, so you must have done something right." You gaze straight ahead, watching how your red toenails peek out from beneath the water. "Plus you had Kathy with you."

"What is it with you and Kathy all of a sudden, that-"

"You don't get it, Elliot! Other than stupid sitcoms...ever since I met you, Kathy's practically the only real life example I've ever had of what a wife or a mom is supposed to be. A _good_ one, at least. Yours was the only family I was ever sorta part of."

"But you know better than anyone that our life wasn't perfect, not even close," he argues. "And Kathy's not some Martha Stewart supermom. That's no disrespect to her- she did a great job- but it's the truth."

"Your house was always clean. Cleaner than it is here, at least, and she had a lot more kids to clean up after. Plus she cooked, she did laundry, she-"

"Do you hear me complaining?" he asks.

"What?"

"Have you ever heard me complaining," he repeats, slower this time, "about any of these things since we moved in here?"

"Uh, no?" If anything, he complains about how he and Noah are banished to the couch on Friday afternoons so that they don't interrupt your cleaning frenzy before Kathy and Eli come.

"Well, there you go. Stop making an issue out of nothing."

"How do I know it's nothing? You're the one who ends up doing most of that stuff- and maybe you resent it and just aren't telling me."

"Then that would be on me, wouldn't it?" When you don't answer, he groans quietly. "Liv. I'm the mostly retired one here, so it just makes sense because I'm home more. It's not a big deal for me to take care of the laundry so that you have more time to spend with Noah when you're off work- that's what I _want_ you to do. He needs that time with his mom. And once he goes to bed...I can think of a lot of things I'd rather have you doing than the dishes."

You duck your head and try to keep from smiling, but it proves impossible. "That would explain why this place looks the way it does."

"So neither of us are great at cleaning. We'll never have our apartment on the cover of a magazine, and that's fine. I don't give a shit about that. It'll get worse with a baby- might as well accept it now. Besides..."

"Hmm?"

"Nah. I shouldn't say it."

"Elliot..."

"I think we all can agree I'm the better cook of the two of us," he says.

You wish you could argue with that, but he's got you there- especially when it comes to making food a picky toddler will eat. Even in the early days when Noah wasn't Elliot's biggest fan, he would happily gobble down pureed carrots if they came from him (the same pureed carrots he would unceremoniously spit back in your face). "Yeah."

"Liv? I told you I shouldn't say it..."

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

"I might've been a little overdramatic about it before," (just maybe), "but I still feel like I'm playing catchup. Like I was finally starting to figure out how to be a mom to one kid...and now I know nothing about being pregnant, I know nothing about how I'm supposed to deal with a newborn and a toddler at once- what?"

He reaches for a piece of hair that's fallen out of your ponytail, pushing it behind your ear when you turn your head to face him. "I'm not making fun of you. I promise. But that's the nature of kids...they have a way of making you feel clueless over and over again."

"Oh really? Because you seem to have it figured out." It's not a compliment.

"And what am I supposed to say to that, Liv?"

"Say whatever you want. Isn't that how it goes? When I say the kids have spent enough time watching videos- 'no, they're fine'. When they start fighting- 'oh, you have to let them work it out on their own'. No matter what it is, you always have the answer."

"But what did I do when you said no more videos? I had Eli turn off the iPad. When they started fighting? I followed you in there to break it up. It's not that I don't listen to you."

He actually has a point there, but you're not quite ready to concede. "Well then. Thanks?"

"Hey. What are you doing?" he asks as you try to extricate yourself from his reach and stand up. It's not as simple as it once was- you may not have gained a lot of weight yet, but it's enough that your center of gravity has started to shift and you haven't yet adjusted to carrying around those extra pounds. "C'mon...talk to me."

You sit perched on the edge of the tub, giving yourself a momentary respite before you have to step out. "The water's getting cold."

"Look, I'm not gonna apologize for-"

"Of course you're not, you wouldn't-"

"Will you just _listen_? Please," he adds as an afterthought.

You purse your lips together in a straight line, turning around until your feet are flat on the bathroom rug. "I'm listening."

"I made a lot of mistakes with my kids, whether you think so or not. And I thought, with Eli, I was finally gonna be the dad I wanted to be. But things didn't turn out the way I expected."

"El-"

He holds up his hand to silence you. "Lemme finish."

"Fine, finish," you say, wrapping your bathrobe around yourself and watching him behind you in the reflection of the mirror.

"Somebody told me- as long as the mistakes you're making are new ones, then that's progress. It means you've learned from the old ones."

"And so I'm supposed to learn from your mistakes."

"No, _I'm_ supposed to," he says, following you out of the tub and reaching for a towel. "That's why I said, I'm not gonna apologize for...I've learned to pick my battles, and I've learned that most of the things I used to get so pissed at the kids for didn't mean shit in the long run. But what I'm trying to tell you is, I don't have everything figured out. All I know's that I wanna do better this time, for this baby and for Noah." You tilt your head to the side, questioning. "Eli's already a lost cause, you've seen that kid."

"Stop that," you chide teasingly, hesitating for a moment until you let yourself be pulled in against him. "I know. I know. I just." The words come out mumbled with your forehead touching his chest. "I feel like we're going back to where we were when Noah first came home and..."

"No. Liv...no. It's not like that at all."

"But it could be," and you can't go through that again, out of control and completely dependent on someone else to get you (and your child) through the day, awake all night because you were convinced someone might not survive the next.

"Hey. Look at me. Liv?" When you don't move, you hear him acquiesce. "Okay. It's okay." You stand together, silent and nearly motionless for at least a solid minute before he tries again, gently hooking a finger under your chin to nudge it upward until you meet his eyes. "It's different. You know how I know that?"

"No."

"Because _you're_ different. _We're_ different. And yeah, it was rough in the beginning, but you got through it and you figured out how to make it work on your own. Just like I knew you would, and like you will this time. Only now- for one thing, we've got six more months to get ready. Stuff goes a lot more smoothly when you have some advance notice," and you chuckle at that, remembering a frantic text to Nick that went something like _'quick tell me everything babies need ASAP!'_ (He knew right away this was serious by the exclamation points, which you normally abhor). "I mean, there's gonna be a learning curve. For both of us. But you're in a completely different place mentally than you were then, and I'm...I'm here for good now."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because. I know we've been through this same conversation before, and..."

"And you never believe me?" he asks, hands rubbing your upper arms. "That's okay. Being a dad means you get really good at repeating yourself."

"It's not that I don't believe you. It's just. I don't know what it is." Or why, even when you were a terrible mother by anyone's standard, he never once even hinted that maybe you should admit defeat. He may have thought the whole situation was insane from the beginning, but he still willingly adopted your belief that this little boy was meant to be yours and there was no turning back.

"It's alright." He tosses you an old t-shirt of his. "Get dressed before the two of you get cold."

You roll your eyes but do as you're told, smiling at 'the two of you' as you pull the shirt on over your head. Your bedroom window is still partway up, and you sit down at the edge of the bed to enjoy the warm air- it's early October but summer seems determined not to give way to fall just yet.

"Nice night," Elliot comments, coming out of the bathroom in just his boxers.

"Do you think I'm afraid of being happy?"

"Do I- what? Ah. Is that...are you asking me what I think?"

"Yeah."

He stretches out on the mattress behind you. "That's a tough one. Are you happy right now?"

"Yes." _Overwhelmingly, terrifyingly happy._

"And are you afraid of that?"

"Yes." _Overwhelmingly, terrifyingly afraid._

"Well then, I guess that's your answer?"

Not quite satisfied with this, you lie down next to him and wait for his hand to reach toward your belly. You're not left waiting for long. "That was kinda halfassed."

"Too bad, it's my turn to ask the questions now. Do I make you feel like you're a bad mother? Honestly?"

"No," you say before you even have time to really think about it. Do you get annoyed with Know-It-All Dad? Yes, on a daily basis. But you also know that every morning, after you give Noah one last goodbye hug before heading out the door, Elliot kisses you and tells you to 'take good care of Little Bean.'

Every day your response is the same. "I always do."

And so is his. "I know you do."

"No," you repeat, turning your head to the side to look at him as you stroke his cheek with the back of your hand. "You don't. You piss me off, but the rest...it's not because of you."

"I meant what I said last night, you know. This is it for me. You're stuck, because I'm not going anywhere and I'm not changing my mind. There's nothing you, or anyone, can do that's gonna make me regret this...Liv?"

"I'm happy now," you say slowly, voice hushed.

"So'm I. But...?"

"You don't ever feel like you shouldn't be?"

He takes his hand off your stomach and wraps his whole arm around you until you're tucked into his side. "I'm Catholic, did you forget? Of course I do."

"It seems wrong sometimes, though, even now. I could've kept a lot of people from getting hurt if I hadn't...I guess it doesn't matter anymore, because I can't go back and change it."

"But you would if you could?" His face stays neutral but even in the dark, you can see a flicker of hurt in his eyes.

"No, God no. I wouldn't. Even though I know how selfish that is. It just feels like...I should be getting punished, but here I am living this life that I don't deserve."

"You do, though. If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you. Making mistakes doesn't mean you should be miserable forever." You feel him kiss the top of your head, nuzzling your damp hair. "Like you said, can't change it now, so how is beating yourself up going to make things any better?"

"Sure you don't regret it?"

"I wish we would've gotten here in a different way, but I don't regret where we ended up. Especially not now."

"There's something I forgot to tell you last night," you say, one of your legs slipping in between his. It won't be much longer before your belly will stick out too far for you to be able to get this close to each other. "Well. Something other than 'I'm sorry'."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

You reach for his free hand and press your palms together, fingers clasped. "I love you."

 _{sometimes all that we can know is  
_ _there's no such thing as no regrets  
_ _but baby it's alright}_

"Eli told me he wants you at his first communion," Elliot mentions casually. Well, as casually as he can considering that you just climbed into his lap and sank down onto his cock.

"Uh-huh," you hum, holding onto his shoulders for better leverage as you slowly lift yourself up until only the head of his dick is still inside you, then abruptly take all of him back in with one fluid motion. He better be appreciating this while it lasts because it sure as hell isn't gonna be happening with thirty extra pounds on you. "And we're talking about this now...why?"

The timing for this conversation is rather suspicious. You had gotten up to shut the windows when he went to check on Noah, and the second he came back in the room he had his arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling your shirt off over your head and leaving you completely undressed once again. "Mmm. What're you doing?"

"Lie down and you'll see."

The answer to that question, apparently, was _driving you out of your fucking mind._ He worked his way down your body at an agonisingly slow pace, suckling and biting at your oversensitive nipples while you had one hand holding his head down to your breast and the other clapped over your mouth to keep yourself from waking Noah. You could've come from that alone and he knew it. But he wasn't going to let it happen, stopping when he could tell you were right on the verge and sitting back between your legs, placing a kiss atop your stomach as he went.

You thought this meant you were finally going to get some relief. You were wrong. He started kneading the muscles of your slick inner thighs with his thumbs, gradually moving further upward but being careful to never actually touch you _there_ no matter how much you were writhing around. And then, just when you were about to succumb to insanity and start begging, he slid two fingers into you without warning.

" _Fuck_ ," you blurted out, your palm doing little to muffle the sounds you were making as he added a third finger and started fucking you with his thick digits. You were going to be sore all over tomorrow and the idea thrilled you- it'll give you the distraction you need when you're in a four hour meeting about budget paperwork and trying not to draw attention to yourself by getting up to pee every 20 minutes. "God...El, please, I'm gonna..."

Before you could say anything else, he pulled his hand back. "Gonna what? You're not coming until I do."

He laughed when you growled at him, announcing that you were in charge now and pushing him back against the headboard. But now you're beginning to wonder if he's already turned the tables on you.

"Why'm I- oh _shit_ , yeah. Just like that- why'm I talking about it now? No reason, just came to mind-"

You bite at his lower lip, tugging it between your teeth. "Liar. You think you'll get me to agree with anything you say right now."

"Think I will? I _know_ ," he boasts, rolling you onto your back and pinning your wrists over your head. He leans down and nips at your earlobe. "I want you there with me and I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks. I want everyone to know you're mine."

"You mean you want everyone to see that you knocked me up, old man," you tease as he starts moving above you.

"Can you blame me? When you're this fucking sexy?"

"Pride's a sin," you remind him. He retaliates by tightening his grip on your wrists and you wonder what the Chief would think if you showed up to that meeting sporting obviously finger-shaped bruises. Better wear long sleeves. "And you're such a caveman."

"Don't hear you complaining." You dig your heels into his back to show your disapproval of such a stupid retort- even if it might be true, if there might be a tiny bit of you that likes the feeling of being owned. Not that you would ever admit it. You don't have to. He already knows, and nobody else needs to.

You lift your head slightly off the pillow to kiss him, the coarse hair of his newly grown beard tickling your face. It's not an entirely unpleasant sensation but you're going to have some issues if he follows through on his threat to let it grow until the baby comes. "El. I need..."

"Not yet," he warns you as he lets go of your wrists. He reaches down and starts rubbing on either side of you with two of his fingers, thrusting into you roughly a few more times and waiting until his own release has already begun before his thumb finally makes direct contact with your clit, sending you over the edge. "Now, baby, c'mon."

"Ohhhgod," you huff as soon as you're able, wanting him to stay inside you longer but also (and more pressingly) needing to get all the oxygen you can into your lungs. Fuck maternity zumba or whatever stupid class they always advertise at the gym, because this is all the workout you need right here. "You win, I'm- wait. What was that?"

Elliot hears the same rattling sound you do and jumps up, throwing on his boxers and opening the bedroom door to find Noah on the other side, unsuccessfully jiggling the doorknob. You let out a tiny yelp and pull the comforter over yourself as quickly as you can.

Noah doesn't take notice of your embarrassment, too proud of having mastered the fine art of climbing out of his crib. He gives you a big toothy grin and waves. "Hi guys!"

First item on the agenda for tomorrow: _buy toddler bed/lock for bedroom door._

 _{I'm just resting in the arms of the great wide open  
_ _it's gonna pull my soul in  
_ _and I'm almost home}_


End file.
